


Frustration

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Begging, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, M/M, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-14
Updated: 2009-07-14
Packaged: 2019-07-02 07:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15791850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Warnings: Dub con, toys, a touch of daddy kink, bad language, beggingNot worksafe





	Frustration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sueworld2003](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sueworld2003).



> Warnings: Dub con, toys, a touch of daddy kink, bad language, begging
> 
> Not worksafe

“What’s up, Percy?” Spike dropped into Wesley’s office with consummate informality, seeming hardly to take a step before his feet were up on Wesley’s desk.

Wesley smiled. The insolence was welcome, in this case. “It seems Angel is quite upset with you.”

“Oh, the horror,” Spike grinned, laying a hand flat on his chest.

“Yes, well, he has handed me the onerous task of keeping your dick in your pants.”

Spike laughed heartily, until he saw Wesley’s stoic expression. “You’re serious?”

“Quite. Angel despairs of being able to correct your behavior, and has asked me to do so in his stead. I can’t say I’m thrilled.”

Spike’s foot swung off of Wesley’s desk and he sat up straight, frowning with concern. “What did he tell you?”

“That you would comply with whatever punishment I arrange or you would never see him naked again.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, I found it a rather illuminating sentence, all around.”

“Ah. Look, Percy…”

“I don’t think further discussion is really going to help either of us,” Wesley interrupted. He placed an item on the edge of his desk nearest Spike.

Spike blinked. “Is that what I think it is? Because I have to tell you…”

“Yes, it’s a cock-ring. Put it on.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what Penthouse forums you’ve been reading, Wes, but longer-lasting cockstands aren’t the way to chastity.”

“I did not ask for your commentary. Put it on. It’s a magical cock-ring.”

Spike sniggered.

Wesley sighed and cast his eyes ceiling-ward. “Yes, I’m aware how funny that sounds. But it’s just the first step, and if you don’t mind, I was hoping for this needlessly intimate conversation not to take all morning.”

“What, you want me to just…”

“Now, if you please.”

Spike stood, hitching his jeans up with a proud smirk before he un-did them. “Perk of the job?” He fished himself out with a leer.

“I’d advise you to take your jeans completely off. It will facilitate the next step.”

Spike raised an eyebrow but didn’t lose his cocky grin.

Wesley did his best to keep his gaze steadily on Spike’s face. “It’s a magic cock ring, as I said. Please stop snickering. Unlike the normal variety, it does not simply impede the loss of tumescence, it prevents it. You will be unable to achieve completion, nor go flaccid while wearing it.”

Wearing only his t-shirt, Spike still managed to appear nonchalant as he took the metal ring in hand and worked it over his semi-hard cock and balls. “Hate to break it to you, mate, but being hard all the time isn’t…” he gasped and fell a little forward, hands clenching around his now fully-hard dick.

Wesley smiled. “You will also feel highly aroused while wearing it.”

Spike raised both eyebrows. His voice was already tight with desperation, his hands gripping himself. “And this is supposed to keep my trousers ON?”

“No. _This_ is.” Wesley drew the second device from his desk drawer.

Spike’s shoulders sank in realization. “Bloody hell.”

“Put it on.”

“You’re a sadist, you know that?”

“Hardly.”

Spike picked up the contraption, turning it around in his hands, finding the straps.

“That one goes around your waist, those two you step through.” Wesley directed, when Spike looked less than sure how to go about putting it on. “Hrm. The cage looks a little small. I did ask Angel for your, ahem, dimensions.”

Spike bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as the cock-cage snapped into place.

Spike picked up his feet, one and the other, adjusting the lay of the straps. “Oh yeah,” he said with a grimace. “This is going to be a slap and a tickle.”

Wesley touched the buckles, whispering an ancient word under his breath. “The device is magically sealed,” he said.

“Of course,” Spike muttered.

“Only I can release it.”

“Yeah, Wes, I get it. So how long am I going to be twitching?”

Wesley folded his hands before him. “I thought a week.”

Spike bit his lip. He tugged up his jeans, struggling to get them closed over the added bulk of the chastity device. “Why’d Peaches enlist you for this, anyway?”

“He was worried he’d be unable to draw the line between acceptable and morally reprehensible behavior, considering how angry he is.”

With a grunt, Spike finally got the button fastened on his jeans, and his hand drifted down, over the hard bulge behind denim. He clenched a fist and, with very obvious effort, moved the hand to his side. “So, is that it, then?”

“Yes, you’re free to go. Oh – should you wish to end the, you know, early, Angel would like you to ask. In fact, that’s rather the point.”

Spike smirked. “You can ask a man to put on bondage gear, but you still blush and stutter when talking about it. You’re a piece of work, Percy.”

Without a trace of embarrassment, Wesley said, “Good day, Spike.”

***

Spike had put up with desire, with burning, yearning, all-consuming lust for an unobtainable object. He left Wesley’s office with jaw clenched, certain he could wait out the week without giving Angel – or Wesley – the pleasure of seeing him break down.

He made it to the afternoon staff meeting without trying to hump against the hard metal binding him. The need for touch was intense, and the absence agony. And then he sat down, with the table conveniently over his lap, and couldn’t help just trying to rub himself, pushing his hand into the hard outline of the cage under his jeans.

He looked up and saw Angel’s knowing eyes, dark with lust and anger, glaring at him. His general attitude was the same as always, in his chair, but those eyes might as well have been laser beams straight to the back of Spike’s skull and he felt his trapped cock twitch in response, painfully, and bit his lip to keep from hissing aloud.

The very slightest ghost of a smile lifted the corner of Angel’s mouth. So much for making it through the week without showing how he suffered.

That night he took his frustration out on every possibly-evil baddie in the greater Los Angeles area. He got thrown out of three bars before a bouncer got an inadvertent feel of his crotch and gave him a knowing leer.

Spike fed the bouncer his own smile and ended up limping home just before dawn.

Hurt and exhausted, he lay back on his bed, staring at the stained ceiling. His crotch throbbed like a heartbeat, which echoed off the fractures and cuts of his injuries. He wondered at the insufferable ill-logic of magic, making him desperate to shag even as he could barely move.

He squeezed his eyes shut and counted, or tried to count. He kept losing track around the upper sixties. Three times he snatched his hand back from holding the cock cage, rocking his hips uselessly. He smacked the cage just to feel a little vibration. It awoke the lust like gasoline poured on a flame and before he knew it he was straddling the base-board slamming his hips into the metal frame. The metal rang straight through his jeans, as though there was nothing between and he groaned, nearly a howl of frustration. Then he put weight on his injured leg, trying to get more leverage, and the sudden pain awoke him to what he was doing.

The bed flipped onto its side against the wall, looked like it would stay there for a moment, and then fell again, mattress askew.

He grabbed the wall and drew himself toward the fridge. He downed all the pig’s blood he had and then fell onto the couch, picking up his playstation controller.

It was a long night.

***

“Take it off.”

Angel looked up from his morning blood. Spike was hanging in the doorway – hanging off the doorframe drunkenly. He had a cut, swollen lip and a bruise on his cheek.

Angel blinked.

Spike staggered into the office. “You here me, wanker? I give. Take it off.”

Angel’s blank expression turned into a nasty smirk. “I’m glad I didn’t take that bet with Wes. It’s only been one day.”

Spike planted his fists on the desk, head hanging. “You never said you wanted us to be exclusive.”

“Did I have to say that?”

Spike looked up, eyes narrowed. “You were fucking dog-girl.”

“And that gives you the right to whore around?”

Spike’s mouth gaped in exaggerated surprise. “Yeah, it does.”

Their gazes locked, anger on anger. Angel broke the stalemate first, with a dismissive glance to the side. He picked up his mug again. “Enjoy the rest of the week.”

“Damn it, Angel. My bollocks are burning!”

“Good.”

Spike pushed off the desk and began pacing. “I did this for you, Peaches. I agreed to your stupid, possessive bullshit because yes, I am an idiot and I do care about you. But you’re not worth this. I’ve done the suffering for love bit. It ends now.”

Spike turned to glare at Angel, giving him an obvious opening to say something, anything.

“When you come back, come begging,” Angel said.

The door cracked as Spike slammed it behind himself.

He stormed into Wesley’s office. “Take it off. I’m done.”

Wesley closed the book in front of him. “No,” he said.

“I’m not playing around here, Wes. This is over. Take the bloody thing off. He’s not worth this. Nothing is worth this.”

Wesley folded his hands over his book and smiled.

It took Spike two turns of pacing to notice the lack of response. “Well?”

“I’m sorry, Spike, but the terms of the deal were set out from the start. I’m not prepared to accept your changing your mind.”

Spike vamped out and lunged at the watcher, slamming his fists into the surface of the desk.

Wesley regarded his snarls coolly, silently, and without a single motion, until Spike, startled at the lack of response, paused.

“Are you finished?”

“I could kill you,” Spike said, with a hint of hurt.

“I am well aware.”

Spike’s fangs faded away. He grabbed the sides of his head, disordering his hair as he gripped his scalp. “You’re driving me insane. Soul will mean bollocks when I’m completely bonkers.”

“Yes, but you’re still capable of reasoning _now_ , aren’t you?”

Spike flexed his fists, his breath coming in hard pants through his nostrils. Wesley’s cold expression had gained the annoying addition of a slight smirk. Quivering with rage, Spike turned on his heel and left.

Pure rage got him through the rest of the day. He felt the insatiable lust twisting and burning. It never diminished, and the stupidest things could flare it up – accidentally brushing any warm flesh, or a wall, or a chair. He clenched his fists, his jaw, his every muscle, and let the fire burn unchecked. It took every ounce of anger and every latent streak of masochism to keep from rutting against the walls uselessly, but he did it.

By the time he got back to his flat, he was soaked with cold sweat. Once again, he could not sleep. The slightest relaxation resulted in twisting onto his stomach, humping the bed, the floor, his hand. He tossed like he was fevered. He felt like he was.

The ice-cold shower helped not in the slightest, and his fingers were all bloody and bruised after a solid hour of trying to get the buckles off. What sleep he got came curled up in the rust-stained shower stall, cold water running over him.

***

Angel was still getting dressed for work when Spike appeared at the elevator to his private suite. Normally, he’d be annoyed at being interrupted in his morning routine, but Spike was so exquisitely suffering. His hair was a wild tangle of curls. His lips parted, he was panting, his eyes starving, wild.

Angel pulled off the tie he had been fastening. “Something I can do for you, Spike?”

“Please,” Spike said, taking one shaking step forward.

Angel slipped his hand down the silk tie, feeling how strong it was – he always loved silk for bondage. “Please…?”

He took another shaking step forward, as though he was fighting a current. “Please, Angelus. I’m begging, yeah. I can’t stand this. Whatever you want, just end it.”

Angel tilted his head back as Spike got closer. “You don’t _look_ like you’re begging.”

Spike only gave half an eye-roll and a groan before falling to his knees. “I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I’ll never fuck around on you again, you can bloody believe that, Angel. Please.”

Angel felt his dick twitching eagerly in his pants, but the reminder of why this was happening hardened his resolve. “No, Spike. I don’t think you’ve suffered enough.”

Spike’s gasp sounded mighty like a sob. “You son of a bitch!”

Angel grabbed his shoulder to keep him from rising. “I didn’t say you couldn’t convince me otherwise.”  
  
Spike rubbed his cheek against the bulge in Angel’s slacks. “Said I’d do whatever you want. C’mon, Peaches. I know you want me to suck you off. I’ll make it good. You can be the big man, put me in my place.” He spoke against Angel’s groin, his breaths passing through fabric to tease Angel’s hard length. He rose up against Angel, pressing his body to him. In his deepest, sexiest voice, he purred, his throat pressed against the tip of Angel’s cock. “I know what you like. Sire.”

Spike let out a whoop of victory as he was tossed onto the nearest furnishing. Angel tore his jeans frantically and thrust into him so quickly for a moment Spike thought he was still clothed and Angel had managed to puncture two sets of trousers with his dick. As it was, the pain was incredible, sudden, blunt, deep and hard. It was the first sensation in two days to distract him from the smoldering need in his groin. Spike gasped in a moment of freedom and pushed back against the intrusion.

He felt fangs, wet and sharp, against his ear. “You like this, don’t you?”

“God, yes. Angel!” Spike reached behind himself to grasp Angel, to pull him tighter against him.

“Whore!” Angel pushed into him hard, crushing him against the coffee table he was thrown over. “Is this,” he thrust again, “Not enough for you?”

“Yes…” Spike groaned, and felt Angel stiffen. “I mean no! ‘S all I want. Just keep fucking me, Angel. Just you.” He rolled his hips, fucking himself back. It felt good, real good. The pain was already dissipating into a delicious edge on the pleasure, and his confused cock thought it was on its way to completion. All he needed was a little more.

Angel’s teeth slid against his skin, and his voice was heavy with need. “Are you a whore, Spike? Are you?”

“Yeah.” Spike threw his head back, bearing his throat. “But I‘m your whore.”

Angel’s teeth entered with as much savage force as his cock had, tearing through flesh to feed hungrily. Spike gave a strangled cry, feeling blood in his throat.

His cock squirmed, jerked, and throbbed. He felt his orgasm build, and then reach the tipping point, and then, just as he started his plummet into pure bliss, he felt it jerked back like a hound on a choke-chain. He screamed over the white-hot feeling of void pulling at his bound cock.

Angel’s teeth clamped tighter, his hips pistonned frantically, and he was coming. Spike pressed back against the feeling of cool spunk coating his insides. He was already burning for more, and Angel was slowing down, hips shuddering and thrusting shallowly, slowing to a stop.

“No… more… fuck!” Spike swore and wriggled, knowing he could, if he tried hard, get Angel going again. The smell of spunk and blood in the air was short-circuiting his brain.

Angel flexed his hips, thrusting gently with his semi-hard cock. His voice was much calmer, tinged with amusement, when he repeated, “Do you like this?”

“You know I do. Bastard.”

Angel chuckled. His hands tightened on Spike’s waist, under his bunched, sweat-soaked tee. “Can you be a good boy for daddy?”

“Fuck off. Sod. Gah…” Angel moved his hips away, pulling nearly all the way out. “I mean yes. Fuck. Daddy. Please… I’ll be good. You know I will. Just take the fucking thing off and I’ll show you just how grateful I can be. Blow your brains out your cock. Every day, if you want. Just… god.”

Angel chuckled again. Spike felt it vibrate through his back and then felt Angel licking at the ragged wound in Spike’s neck, which was deliciously, painfully arousing. Spike whimpered. “Please.”

Angel thrust with his renewed erection, and they both groaned. Spike rose off the table, wrapping his arms behind him around Angel, he rode against him while Angel cleaned every last drop of blood that had spilled down the side of his neck.

With much twisting and contorting, they managed to strip out of what clothing they had left on without losing contact, and ended up on the couch, where Spike rode Angel as fast as Angel would let him. Angel kept grabbing hold of him, pressing him down to still him a moment, and marveling at the thrumming energy in taut muscles and straining sinew.

This time, when Angel game, he gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head while his hands squeezed tight on Spike’s hips, trying – and failing – to hold him still a moment.

And then he lay back, staring at the ceiling in mindlessness while Spike urgently worked against him.

Angel grimaced as a hard squeeze to his over-sensitive dick rudely curtailed his afterglow. He stood, dumping Spike off his lap.

“Oi!”

“You’re forgetting who is in charge here.”

Spike opened his mouth, face screwed up to protest, then remembered his situation. “Right,” he said. He shuffled onto his knees, grasping for Angel, who side-stepped him.

“You want that thing off? Wait right there.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Spike breathed. He held onto the seat of the couch, trying to reign in his anxiousness. It was going to be over soon.

Angel wasn’t gone long. He returned and groaned. “Do you have any idea what you look like, on your knees like that?”

Spike glanced over his shoulder and waggled his ass saucily. “Might have an idea.”

Angel dropped to his knees behind him. He stroked up Spike’s thigh, stopping to fondle the strap cutting across his flesh. “I have something for you, Spike,” Angel said, voice rich with teasing.

“Yeah? Is it big?” Spike wiggled his ass again, pressing back against Angel.

Angel petted Spike’s hair, pushed his head down and away. “Before I give it to you, I need to know. I need to know you aren’t going to go sleeping around on me, Spike. I need to know you’re _mine_.”

“Yours,” Spike gasped. He leaned back into the hand holding him down. “I swear, Angel. Always was, always will be.”

“And if I decide to see someone else, temporarily?”

Spike held his breath. The moment grew heavy with import. This was the real question, the source of their whole disagreement, and it tore his guts to give in. Didn’t he, just a little, deserve fidelity in return? Just once?

“Spike?”

He let go the breath he was holding. “Yeah,” he said. “I know. Got no right to complain, do I?”

“I need to hear you say it, Spike. Say it clearly.”

Bastard. The leather cushion under his hands groaned with the strain of his clenched fists. “You can fuck around,” he said. “I’ll stay faithful. That’s the way you want it, that’s the way it’ll be. I know I… I don’t deserve better.”

“That’s right,” Angel said, and his fingers scratched through Spike’s curls, stroking down the nape of his neck.

Despite it all, Spike arched back against the sensation.

“Do you still want what I have for you, boy?”

Not really, Spike thought, but that was a lie. His body was all but begging for another round, for a moment free from the maddening itch. He nodded.

Angel slapped his hip. “Hold still and I’ll give it to you.”

“Promises, promises,” Spike chided, but he bit his lip and concentrated on holding still for a moment.

Something blunt nudged his opening. Spike had only a moment to realize it didn’t feel right when Angel slammed the hard plastic home. He held Spike down, prepared ahead of time for his bucking attempt to escape, and casually clipped the plug to the bottom of the cock-cage harness before smacking Spike hard on the ass and stepping back.

Spike turned to glare at Angel.

“I want to know you’re going through the day, unable to find release, smelling my spunk inside you,” Angel said. He wasn’t smiling.

“God damn it, Angel! I said I was sorry. I apologized. I said…”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still mad. You broke my trust. Now get out of here before I throw you out.”

Spike gaped, frozen in shock. Angel hauled him up and threw him toward the door. “Out! I mean it, Spike. Five seconds or I’ll get security.”

***

Spike’s clothes were ripped to shreds. Half-naked he huddled in a storage closet, too hurt and too tortured by sensation to think what to do. Find a way home? Find something to cover himself with? Just sit here, shuddering?

So far, shuddering was winning.

He tried to concentrate on the smell of copier toner and clean paper that pervaded the closet, but of course, all he could smell was the thick, cloying musk of Angel and sex.

And he was so turned on he could tear his cock out his ass.

He didn’t know how long he was there when the door opened, a female voice gasped, and the door slammed shut again, but shortly after that, Wesley came to fetch him.

Spike was in a bad state, and hardly noticed what was happening as Wesley took him to the company gym and washed him. He did, however, feel the knife’s edge of agonized joy every time Wesley’s wash cloth strayed toward his groin.

Dried and inspected for injury, Wesley led him back to his office.

“Feeling better?” Wesley asked, closing the door.

Spike’s answer was a shake of the head, then a pause, and a small nod.

“Well. Still able to respond, I see. That’s better than expected.” Wesley bustled about, clearing off his desk and placing the items from atop it into various drawers. “Come here, Spike. I want you to climb up on the desk.” Wesley patted the surface as one would to instruct a dog.

Spike was considerably beyond feeling umbrage about it. He climbed up very carefully, so as not to jar his cock, because any slight vibration of the cage would shred his last thread of control.

He let Wesley direct him and place him on his hands and knees.

And then Wesley ran one hand, slow and appraising, from Spike’s shoulder to ass. “Beautiful,” he said.

“F-fuck, Wes,” Spike said.

“Sh,” Wesley soothed, stroking the quivering vampire’s flank again. “Do you know how many days you have left?”

“Three?” Spike asked, hopefully.

Wesley laughed.

Spike’s head hung. “More?”

“Yes. More.” Wesley bit his own lip, trying not to reveal how moved he was by the sight in front of him. “Angel told me about your visit with him. That was most disappointing, Spike. You obviously aren’t ready to be released.”

“Anything,” Spike said, almost inaudible. “Please, anything, anything.” It was a chant.

“Shhhhhh.” Wesley petted him. “Close your eyes. Quiet your thoughts. I want you to do something for me, Spike.”

“Anything… anything…”

“Yes, I know. I want you to relax as much as you can, and tell me, very honestly, what you most want at this exact moment. If you lie, I’ll know.”

“What I want?”

“Yes. Right at this moment.”

“Fuck me, Wes. Please.”

Wesley’s calm stroking stopped. He lifted his hand from Spike as though scalded. Spike whined at the loss.

“Oh god, Wes. Please. Please just… do anything you want.” Spike’s head hung low, his ass swaying as he wriggled his hips, despite his own will trying to find any angle that created friction, any at all.

Wes pressed a hand hard into his own groin, because it felt like his dick could explode at any moment and he needed to hold it together. With more calm than he felt, he said, “All right,” and placed his free hand against one silken, bare haunch. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s killing me, Wes. Please. If I can’t come, at least let me feel you do it, yeah?”

Wesley’s fingers shook as he undid his flies, but he kept the hand on Spike’s thigh steady, stroking up and down. Spike was humping at the air over the desk, on his hands and knees, eyes squeezed shut, lost in need. Wesley finally got his pants open and his cock sprung free with a spurt of pre-cum. Wesley gripped himself, spreading the liquid over himself and trying not to shoot off just that moment. “I want to fuck you, Spike,” he said, voice husky with desire. “But if I do this for you, there will be consequences. You understand that?”

Spike nodded quickly, frantically, pressing his ass into Wesley’s hand. “Please. Yes. I don’t care; just do it.”

Wes stood, hardly needing to touch, much less look, to guide himself between Spike’s urgently lifting legs. He thumbed the base of the plug in Spike’s ass, and the vampire’s body quivered like a plucked string. Incoherent pleas were falling from his lips, and Wesley thought absently that he should get a tape recorder in the office before the next time something like this happened. He tortured himself a bit, playing with the plug in the guise of loosening it, putting off his pleasure while one hand firmly squeezed the base of his erection, willing away a modicum of the urgency there.

Spike was bucking like a ship at sea. Wesley smacked his flank, hard. “Be still, or you’ll get nothing.”

Instantly, Spike froze. Body all aquiver, he held perfectly still as Wesley pulled the plug free, letting it fall on its chain to swing between the vampire’s legs. He saw the hole clench, eager to be re-filled, and admonished, “Remember, Spike, one single motion and this ends as it began.”

He lined himself up and pressed forward just enough to feel the kiss of lubed flesh ringing the tip of his cockhead. He held there, though he felt he’d go mad, waiting to see if Spike had the control to wait as well.

“Gooooood boy,” he gasped, sliding his length into the tight, grasping channel. He forced himself to go slow until he was seated all the way in, his hips flush against that pleasing rump. His heart felt like it would rupture. He slid his hands up the swayed back in front of him and then gripped Spike’s shoulders hard. “You can move now,” he said.

Like a racehorse set off by a gun, Spike lurched under him, bucking and thrusting back. Interior muscles clenched with power that sent black stars sparking across Wesley’s vision, and all he could do was hold on tight, wracked by pleasure with the force of storm-tossed waves.

Wesley dug his fingernails into the flesh under him and thrust, hard, once, twice, and he was spilling, endlessly it seemed, coming up from his toes, down from his scalp, all his insides emptying into that sweet, tight friction.

And then he was replete, and fell forward against a back still bucking wildly. “Be still!” he smacked Spike, but he didn’t listen this time. Wesley balled his fist and landed a hammer-blow between Spike’s shoulder blades. “I said be still!”

Spike’s motions stuttered to a slow rock, a whimper rising deep in his throat. “Can’t help it, Wes. So… need…”

Wesley wound his hand in Spike’s hair and jerked his head back sharply. “That’s the problem isn’t it? You still haven’t learned to control yourself.”

Head stretched back, Spike’s open mouth flexed, as though sucking at the air. “Ca-can’t. Wasn’t enough. Please, Wes.”

Wesley pulled hard on his hair. “You got exactly what you asked for, you needy little slut.” He pushed off the quivering body, cock slipping free with a little gush of fluid. “You are still moving.”

Wes could tell it took an enormous act of will for Spike to stop the rhythmic swaying of his hips. Three large gasps, and the vampire even stopped breathing. Wesley set his hand on one sweat-glistening flank. “Now then. What did you ask?” When Spike didn’t respond, Wesley squeezed the flesh under his hand firmly. “You asked me to get off on you, so you could feel it. Isn’t that right?”

Shakily, Spike nodded.

“And I did just that. So.” Wesley let his hand slide down to rest Spike’s quivering rump. “Why aren’t you grateful?”

Spike’s shoulders strained a moment, as though he was about to leap up, muscles working beneath the skin. But then, the relaxed. “Sorry,” Spike mumbled. “Grateful. Thanks.”

Wesley stepped to the side, where he could see all of Spike better, and let his hand trace lightly along the cage, fingertips just able to touch, here and there, the red, engorged flesh of Spike’s trapped cock. “Now say it like you mean it.”

He couldn’t blame the vampire for shuddering. Spike’s face was screwed up with concentration. “Th-thank you, Wes. Thank you so much. I-I mean it. Felt bloody brilliant. Please, if you want to do it again… I mean, if you want to. Only if you want to.”

“That’s right,” Wesley said, running his fingertips oh so lightly up and down. He might be mistaken, but the thin skin felt hot to the touch. “I’d be very disappointed if I found out all that begging was really about you wanting to get off, yourself, and saying what you thought I wanted to hear.”

Spike didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. He gave a helpless little gasp, though, when Wesley’s hand dropped away from his engorged dick.

Wesley stepped back, admiring the perfectly still, perfectly submissive form. Despite the recent and powerful orgasm, his cock twitched eagerly at the sight. Wesley sighed. “I’m afraid the training device will have to stay on an extra week, now.”

A bone-deep shudder rocked Spike’s form, but to his credit, he stayed otherwise still.

Wesley smiled. “Did you hear me?”

Spike nodded.

“Then thank me.”

A second’s pause, and then a plaintive, “Wes?”

“I told you there would be consequences. Did you think these would be consequences you would like?”

Spike shook his head. He was biting his lip.

“Say, ‘Thank you, Wesley, that is a fair punishment.’”

Spike licked his lips. His voice was breathy. “Thank you, Wesley. That’s a fair punishment.”

“Good.” Wesley walked to the front of the desk. He let his fingers trace over the wrinkle between Spike’s brows, then down to his lips, which gaped open, letting him trace along the inside edge of his mouth, getting just the tips of his fingers wet. “Good boy, Spike. Keep this up and I may let you beg to suck me off. Would you like that?”

Spike’s mouth closed a little, his tongue coming out to lap at Wesley’s fingertips.

“No,” Wesley said, and immediately he stopped. Spike nodded, very tightly, not wanting to dislodge the fingers in his mouth.

“Good boy. This is a pretty little cock-hole, isn’t it?” He stroked Spike’s lips again, feeling the barely perceptible nod. “Now, I want to believe you can be good, Spike, you know I do. I want to believe you can be obedient, but I suspect you’re only behaving yourself because of the need driving you. If you can’t be perfectly obedient without the promise of reward, we might have to leave that device on you permanently.”

Wesley grinned at the panicked, panting breaths blowing on his hand, and the almost imperceptible head-shake. Wesley let his hand drop to his side. “Now then, do you want to suck my cock?”

Spike nodded. His eyes opened, for the first time in nearly an hour. “Yes, Wesley. Please.”

Wes felt himself harden fully at the sight of the raw need in those eyes. He stood directly in front of Spike’s panting mouth, and could feel the cool breaths on his glans. “The consequence will be the same.”

Spike’s head dropped, eyes closing. He swallowed hard, and nodded.

“Do you hear me, Spike? Suck me off, and you’ll get another added week in the device. Another week of torture. Do you still want it?”

“Yes,” Spike said, breathlessly. He lifted his head, opened his eyes again. His mouth hung open, tongue out against his bottom lip. “Fuck my face, Wes. Want to feel you do it. Want to feel you come. Want to taste it. If you won’t let me taste it, at least let me feel it. If you won’t let me feel it, let me see it. Hell, don’t even let me see it. Just let me know I got you off. And then do whatever you want with me.”

Wesley had to tug his balls then and there to keep from shooting. He cleared his throat. “I think you’re finally coming along. Get down off the desk, please.”

Wesley turned his back on the desk, taking a few calming breaths. He sat on the small leather couch he kept for visitors and spread his legs. “Come here, Spike. Kneel between my legs and, if you please, show me just how much you love sucking cock.”

Spike gave him a small smirk as he fell gracefully to his knees. Wesley was surprised he was still capable of so controlled an expression.

He bowed his head, and without touching Wes with any other part of his body, placed a reverent kiss on the tip of his cock. It immediately jumped, smearing pre-cum on Spike’s lips. Spike opened his mouth wide and started licking, caressing, letting the tip roll around his mouth, groaning in pleasure as he started to suck, cheeks caving in. His tongue worked hard, as though unwilling to let a single millimeter of flesh go un-touched, tasted, savored. And then without preamble he lurched forward, swallowing Wes to the root, and began to bob enthusiastically at a punishing pace.

Wesley hissed and snatched a handful of hair. “Slower! Greedy sod.”

Obediently, Spike pulled back, keeping just the tip lodged in his throat, he swallowed gently, then pulled all the way off to lick again, up and down, passing over the head with little sucks before dipping to tease the full length.

“That’s it.” Wesley leaned back, enjoying the pleasant build-up, the throb of blood in his veins and the buzz in his balls. “That’s it, you inveterate whore. You’ll do anything just to get a mouth full of cock, won’t you?”

The eager bobbing up and down could be taken as an affirmative answer in more ways than one. Wesley let his hand rest on top of Spike’s head.

“You’re starting not to care, aren’t you? If you ever get out of this. You’re starting to love it, the freedom to just be a whore, to live for other’s pleasure. Aren’t you?”

Spike started to pull back, like he would answer, but Wesley used his grip on Spike’s head to ram his cock further down his throat and prevent any answer.

“Now, just keep sucking. That’s what you’re for, now, aren’t you? If I required an answer from you, I would tell you what to say.”

There was a little struggle, a slight choking, but the sucking rhythm started up again, only slightly less energetically.

“That’s right. Be very, very good, and you’ll get a reward. You want rewards, don’t you?” The bobbing was definitely more enthusiastic.

Wesley tugged hard on his hair, because the blowjob was in danger of ending very quickly indeed, and forced Spike to go back to just laving the tip.

Wesley hissed and spread his legs a little wider, letting Spike come up closer into his lap. “Gooood boy. You’ve gotten lots of treats today, but I’m indulgent. What I want from you is a promise that you’ll do a very good job, whenever asked, and you will, won’t you? You little slut?”

With just the tip of Wesley’s cock in his moth, Spike nodded solemnly. And then licked the slit firmly, which nearly set Wes off. He grasped the base of his cock to try and forstall it.

“You agree that you are a little whore who deserves nothing better than to be used?” Another nod.

“Good boy. Now finish me off, and we’ll see if you deserve your reward.”

Nothing could have stopped Spike from accomplishing that goal. He bent to the task enthusiastically, making such filthy slurps and groans that Wesley was coming before he had placed his hand back on his thigh.

Spike moaned his approval, rolling the cockhead around his mouth, milking the last drops from it and then licking delicately around the shrinking, sensitized tissue, lest he missed anything.

Wesley breathed out a long, shuddering breath, marveling. Spike reluctantly let his cock slip from his lips and sat back on his haunches, eyes averted, body swaying slightly as he unconsciously sought friction with his hips.

“Spike. Look up at me.”

He did, eyes flashing with anguished need.

“I will let you come,” Wesley said. “I will take the cage off, and the cock ring, and I wil let you find release.”

He paused, because Spike’s face clearly showed he wouldn’t be capable of hearing the next sentence just yet. Wesley snapped his fingers until Spike’s eyes re-focused. “BUT, only if you promise me something. You have to promise me you will do this, and then you have to do it, or I promise you, the punishment will make the past few days seem luxurious.”

Quickly, Spike nodded.

Wesley smiled. There was something beautifully innocent in his face now that he was so focused, so lost to sensation. “After we are done, you have to put them both back on, yourself.”

Wesley saw the acceptance settle into Spike, it was like the gradual resettling of a slope after an earthquake. His elbow sagged, then his shoulder, then his neck. And then he nodded.

And then Wesley knew his work was done. He waved Spike up, into his lap, and uttered the word that would allow the buckles to be unfastened. Spike’s body went rigid, and then arched up to follow the motion as he lifted the cage away. His eyes were wide open, his mouth stretching in silent gasps, but he did nothing to hurry or control Wesley’s actions. “Very good,” Wesley told him, and let his fingers stroke the engorged flesh. Not surprisingly, this elicited an exquisite shudder and a high, keening sound he wasn’t sure the vampire was aware he was making.

Wesley curled his fingers around the silky flesh and the keen became a whimper. He stroked once and nearly lost hold of the vampire because he shook so hard he might have shaken apart.

Wesley then spoke the word that released the charm, temporarily, on the cock ring. One more pass of his hand – really not even enough to enjoy the weight and feel in his hand – and Spike was coming. He seemed to melt with the spurt of tepid liquid, lolling deeper into Wesley’s lap, his head loose and his eyes fluttering shut.

Wesley wiped his hand on the couch cushion and gave the poor boy a moment to just rest before he said, “Of course, Angel is going to be very angry that we’ve… dallied like this.”

Half-asleep, Spike muttered, “Fuck.”

“It’s his own fault for giving me such a task. I told him he wouldn’t like all my methods.” Wesley smirked at the memory of the look Angel had given him, obviously thinking it was cute the human thought he would shock a vampire.

Of course, Wesley hadn’t been talking about shocking Angel’s delicate sensibilities, but of encroaching on his famous possessiveness, but he hadn’t been particularly motivated to disabuse Angel of that notion. He patted Spike’s thigh. “Come now, time to put it all back.”

“Fuuuuck, Wes. Jus’ let me sleep, yeah? Five minutes?”

“No,” Wesley said, firmly.

He scarcely breathed, knowing this was a delicate moment. Spike could easily slip free, just now.

Moving like his every limb weighed more than he could lift, Spike picked up the tangle of metal and straps and turned it over, very slowly, until the general orientation of the straps were discernable.

“Sodding sadists,” he muttered, lifting one foot and putting it through the harness.

Wesley waited for him to draw it up his legs and fasten the buckles before reaching forward and adjusting the straps himself, and whispering the incantation to seal them.

Spike looked at him warily.

Wesley smiled. “You’ve earned a small reprieve. Go take a shower. You can even dress, if you find clothes. But be back here in an hour. We’ll go to Angel together.”

Spike tried to stand and faltered, catching himself with one hand on the couch arm, one knee still on the couch. He looked back at Wesley with something like loathing.

“Yes,” Wesley said, as though a question had been asked, “I can activate the ring remotely. But like I said, you’ve earned a small respite. I’ll wait until we’re in Angel’s presence. After I tell him how you offered yourself to me like a whore.”

Wesley closed his eyes as Spike dragged himself out the door. Oh, he’d had enormous fun, but his stamina was grateful the rest of Spike’s punishment would be Angel’s job.

Still, he looked forward to reviewing the security feeds.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for **sueworld2003** who requested: _how about something porny/kinky with Spike being placed into enforced chastity by being forced to wear a chastity belt by either Wesley or Angel? Can be on the dark side If you want?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Oh and a nice 'controlled reward' for the poor wee frustrated thing wouldn't go amiss either._
> 
>  
> 
> I chose Wes AND Angel, and, er, I may have made it worse than just a chastity belt. Because I'm a right pervert.


End file.
